Graham tightened his hold on me. “Yes.”
“Avery told me you were seeing someone new, but I didn’t realize it was serious.”
“It is. Very serious.”
Well, okay then. Good to know.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Soraya.”
“Likewise. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
And by that I mean…Graham.
Graham was giving her what looked like a death stare.
What the hell was going on? Why was he so angry all of a sudden?
He abruptly moved along to the next family member in line. We mechanically shook hands with every person in the lineup before reaching the end.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I said, “Well, that was painful. What do we do now?”
He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Soraya…”
“What? Graham, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
“I can’t right now. I’ll lose it on someone. And it’s not the right time nor place.”
It wasn’t long before I got the answer to my question when all eyes in the room turned to a beautiful, dark-haired little girl appearing at Liam’s coffin. Chloe. She’d been MIA all night. I’d assumed Liam and Genevieve’s daughter was kept away intentionally. I didn’t think she was here at all.
The crowd seemed to still upon the heartbreaking sight of the girl weeping over her father’s body. It made me feel guilty because my father was still alive, and I chose to have nothing to do with him. Hers was dead, and she would never have the option to see him again.
“That’s so sad,” I whispered to Graham.
He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.
Almost at the same moment, Chloe turned around, allowing me the first look at her face. I literally gasped. Out loud. The wheels in my head started turning. When I looked over at him, he was staring at her with a look of disbelief.
“Had you never seen her before, Graham?”
His eyes were still planted on her when he shook his head and simply said, “No.”
Suddenly, Graham’s strange behavior made total sense. Because this little girl looked just like her father.
Her father, Graham.
There was no doubt in my mind. Graham was Chloe’s biological father. My mind was racing. How could this have happened? How could they have not told him? Was it even possible that this could have been a coincidence? That she looked just like Graham, even though she was Liam’s? In my heart, I knew the answer. Suddenly, I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or punch someone out.
He tugged at my arm. “We need to leave before I do something here I’m going to regret.”
I looked over toward Genevieve, who was oblivious to Graham’s impending nervous breakdown as she chatted and flashed her perfect white teeth at the people in line.
“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” I said.
Back in the town car, Graham stared blankly out the window for the first ten minutes of the ride. Presumably still in shock, he didn’t seem ready to talk about what we’d just witnessed, and I didn’t want to push it.
He finally turned to me. “Tell me that was just my imagination.”
“No. It wasn’t. That little girl looked just like you.”
He blinked repeatedly, still trying to process. “If she’s my daughter, how could Genevieve have known all this time and not told me?”
“I wish I had an answer, but I don’t. I guess you’re gonna have to ask her.”
Rubbing his temples, he said, “I have to think this through.”
“I understand if you want to be alone tonight.”
“No!” he said emphatically. “I need you with me.”
“Okay.”
That evening, there was no sex. Instead, Graham just held me, the enormous weight of his worry evident with each and every breath he took as he stayed awake, unable to sleep most of the night.
It seemed like the fun, carefree days of our relationship had come to an abrupt end tonight. Things were going to change in a very drastic way. As much as I wanted to be there for him, I couldn’t help the fact that part of me was secretly putting on an imaginary suit of armor to protect myself.
***
GRAHAM HAD DECIDED THAT HE WOULDN’T confront Genevieve until their meeting on Friday. He figured he’d give her time to properly bury Liam before going on the attack about Chloe. I think he also needed the time to prepare for the inevitable truth as well as determine what his legal rights were. He was also bogged down with work, still trying to strategize on the takeover of Liam’s company.
I’d decided that a couple of nights off from each other would be a good idea under the circumstances. Much to his dismay, I intentionally made plans with Tig and Delia two nights in a row and told him I’d be sleeping at my own apartment.
Truthfully, there were no plans other than just hanging out at the tattoo parlor. I really needed my friends’ opinion on this situation.
They couldn’t believe the story.
Delia was organizing her disposable piercing needles as she spoke. “This sounds like something out of General Hospital.”